


That Night in Amnoon

by TheAini



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23135527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAini/pseuds/TheAini
Summary: Dragon's Watch attends a celebration in Amnoon following the defeat of Kralkatorrik but a councilman's plea to be on their best behavior sets Braham on the exact opposite.
Relationships: Braham Eirsson/Original Character(s), Braham Eirsson/Player Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	That Night in Amnoon

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place not long after [ Totally Not a Date](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22689736) and continues on in the chapter fic [Written Cross the Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21855082/chapters/52160080)
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys the fluff :)

“Commander. If you could keep yourself and your … associates on their best behavior during this event, I would be much obliged.”

Councilor Ayman. Her favorite. Lys accepted the councilor’s outstretched hand, grimaced inwardly as the councilor took it as an invitation to stand uncomfortably close and gave him a strained smile, “I assure you, Councilor, we all understand the importance of the night.”

“Yes, I’m quite sure that you do. But, you have a personal habit of instigating a scene, Commander, and we can’t have - ” Ayman stopped speaking as something over Lys’s shoulder caught his eye. The color drained from his face for a moment and he dropped her hand, cleared his throat. “Please excuse me. There are many guests who wish to speak with me.”

“Yes of …” Lys trailed off as the Councilor turned and made a hasty exit, “… course?” What in the world had spooked him?

“That guy pisses me off.” 

Lys gave a start and turned around to discover Braham right behind her. He was standing to his full, impressive height with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes following Councilor Ayman through the crowd. She understood now what had caused the council to scurry off so quickly. “Braham, you can’t go frightening diplomats. Even if they are former Joko sympathizing snakes in the grass.”

“Yeah, well.” He uncrossed his arms and looked down at her, “I was just standing here. If he took me as a threat that’s his problem.”

“Uh huh.”

“Best behavior, my ass …” He grumbled, “Instigating a scene. After all you’ve done for these people.” 

Lys laughed softly as she turned toward Braham. She reached up to straighten the grey fur collar of his coat, brushed her hand down his sleeve. 

Braham arched a brow and shifted uncomfortably under her attentions, “Am I presentable?”

“You’re always presentable, Braham. Well … mostly always.” Lys smirked as he narrowed his eyes at her. He really was more than presentable, she had to admit. He’d traded his rugged dark leather and armor for an oxblood colored coat of supple suede that cut slim around his waist, highlighting his physique in a way that was honestly a bit distracting. “But I do appreciate that you agreed to dress for the night. I know you hate it as much as I do.”

“Yeah. I uh …” He was still looking down at her, standing as close as she was, but had to glance away as he continued, “You look nice. Though it’s hard to look at you when you’re wearing that … whatever it is. From up here, I mean.”

“It’s a corset, Braham.” She chuckled, but adjusted the neckline of her filmy green blouse embarrassedly regardless. “They’re as uncomfortable as they look.”

Braham cleared his throat, glanced at her again, “Comfortable wouldn’t be the first word I thought of to describe how you look, no.” 

“Careful.” She warned, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips, “I might have to accuse you of flirting with me again.”

“Spirits forbid. I’d be in all kinds of trouble if I did that.” 

“Best behavior, remember?” She gave him a wink. 

Before he could reply, Councilor Ayman reappeared with a half dozen well dressed men and women in tow, “Commander!” Ayman paused to glance at Braham, then pointedly shoved his way in between the norn and the commander, “Allow me to present a few of our more generous benefactors.”

Lys put on her best attempt at a diplomatic smile as the turned toward the councilor and his entourage. She felt Braham’s hand brush against her back and then caught him tossing her a grin as he made his way across the room. 

The rest of the evening passed excruciatingly slow. The commander was passed off from one council member to another, introduced to more delegates of various parties than she could possibly keep straight. She kept catching glimpses of Braham. There he was whispering with Canach over a Sandstorm table, the sylvari’s grin setting off alarm bells in her head. She caught him again speaking with an amused looking Marjory, and more than once swore she saw him palm something into the recesses of his coat. She’d seen him empty more than a few glasses of brightly colored drinks offered to him by the passing servers, and if a drunk Braham was up to something she needed to extract herself from these endless introductions and platitudes and remove him from public. 

But where had he gone? She tried to subtly look for the others in the crowd as she nodded to half-ignored conversations. Kas and Jory were dancing quite close on the other side of the room. There were Taimi and Gorrick, drawing a small crowd as they talked enthusiastically. Rytlock, looking extra grumpy while a pair of Elonians tried to engage him in conversation. And Canach … where was Canach. 

“You cheated! Again!” An angry voice rose up from across the room. 

“I assure you that your poor luck is not my fault. Any more than your wife’s poor choice in men is hers.” 

Canach found. Voices continued in an angry crescendo until a table was upended, sending cards and coins scattered across the ground and an eager crowd gathering to watch the entertainment with faux repugnance. 

Lys sighed exasperatedly and turned, intending to fight her way through the crowd and extract the sylvari before things got out of hand. But as she turned she felt a familiar presence close behind her and then Braham spoke in her ear, near enough to feel his breath on her cheek. “Let’s get in trouble.”

She spun around, preparing to berate him but he was grinning broadly, his green eyes sparkling and somehow her admonishments died in her throat. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back away from the crowd. Behind her she could still hear raised voices, the sound of Canach’s dry, snide tone doing nothing to calm the situation. But Braham was dragging her away, out of the room, “Braham, what are you … we can’t just … “

“Sorry, Commander. You’re being kidnapped, not your fault.” 

“Braham!” She laughed, following close behind him as they began up a set of stairs. “I’m not sure if this could pass for kidnapping, I appear to be following rather willingly.”

Braham stopped, turned on the stair ahead of her and gave her a deep look of consideration. That was perhaps not the best joke to make, she realized too late. 

“Good point.” He lunged forward, grabbed the commander by her waist and Lys found herself being slung over his shoulder. 

“Braham!” This time she squealed with laughter, doing a poor job of sounding indignant as she slapped Braham’s back, “Put me down, you big oaf.”

“Oaf?!” He continued up the stairs as if the struggling human woman draped over his shoulder was nothing, “I came to your daring rescue and you call me an oaf?”

“Rescue?” She gave up her flailing, “I thought I was being kidnapped?”

“Oh. Right.” They’d reached the top of the stairs and emerged on the rooftop terrace. Braham lifted the commander off his shoulder, set her down on her feet, “Same difference.” 

“How are a kidnapping and a rescue the same -” She cut herself short, blinking around her. It was a beautiful night in Amnoon, the sky above was a rich purple painted with swaths of stars like jewels. The four broad fountains on the edge of the terrace sparkled cerulean in competition with the sea that stretched out toward the horizon. Set in the center of it all was a low table, piled with pilfered food and drink from the party below. Several plush cushions waited invitingly nearby. 

“Braham …” She exhaled slowly.

His voice was low and teasing as he stood close behind her, “You trying to see how many different ways you can say my name tonight, Commander?”

Lys blushed, feeling her cheeks warm in the cool night air. “… what is all this?” 

“Every “celebration” we’ve been to so far has just been people making demands on you, pestering you for things. Like you owe them anything.” He took her hand and lead her across the mosaiced courtyard toward the table as he continued, “So no more not getting to finish your drink, or barely getting a bite between jerks like Ayman leading you around like a trophy on their arm …”

The way he growled those last few words made her blush even more for some reason.

“Are you going to join me then?” Lys sunk down into a waiting cushion, tucking her legs under her. 

“I tried to get everyone else in on it, thought we make an actual party for you but they all insisted they couldn’t.” Braham looked sheepish, glancing at the pillows near the commander. “For some reason.” 

“That’s alright.” Lys shook her head and reached for a stolen bottle of brandy, looking bemused as she recovered two mismatched glasses as well. “Just the two of us is perfectly alright.” 

“Yeah?” Braham blinked down at the commander as she held out a glass for him, followed her eyes as she glanced at the cushion nearest to her. He accepted her offer, both the drink and the invitation, and sat down at her side. 

“Yeah.” She confirmed with a smile and raised her brandy, “To …the future?”

He looked back at her for a long moment, then clinked his drink with hers, “Sound good to me.”

Lys returned his gaze and laughed with a bubbling kind of joy that she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d felt. Then she drank what would be the first of many, many drinks this long night. 


End file.
